Lessons in Running: Some days are like that. Even in Australia

When our daughters were young, we had several children’s books whose story or message seemed to transcend even the books’ entertainment value. A few—a small few—of those have continued to be part of our family’s lexicon even to this day, long past the days of bedtime stories. One of those is Judith Viorst’s classic Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Day.

The book tells the story of one day in the life of Alexander, a young boy having, well, a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day. A cynic would see in this story a child’s version of first-world problems. A more compassionate or empathetic person would recognize the kind of day we all have some times—a day free of tragedy but a nonetheless unpleasant day when nothing seems to go your way. In Alexander’s young mind, the answer to these problems is to get away. In particular, to Australia, where he is sure such days never happen.

One of the through lines of the narrative is the refrain that Alexander recounts from his mother, “Some days are like that. Even in Australia.”

Several years ago I started dipping my toes in running, and since then I’ve gone through seasons of running (slowly) with some consistency, and other seasons of doing other forms of movement. Over the years, I’ve learned a lot about running, but also a lot about myself as well as life through the discipline and practice of it. I still have a lot to learn on all accounts.

This week, my runs have been a powerful reminder of balancing both excitement and optimism with grace for myself and my body. Because, well, some runs will be great and I will feel energized during the run and proud of my accomplishments afterwards. And other days…well, some days are like that, even in Australia.

I spent most of this week in New Jersey at a gathering of United Methodist bishops and extended cabinets from the Northeastern Jurisdiction. I’ve just begun a running training program using an app, and I headed up there knowing I’d need to do some runs to keep up with the training plan. The hotel was nearby a linear park along a river, and the cold temperatures aside, I figured it would be a good place for those runs. One of the runs, the longest, ended up being a great run—and when a colleague asked me what I meant when I called it a great run (himself a much more experienced runner than me) I explained that I’d felt good and kept a better pace than I’d expected at an easy effort, and most of all, felt like I was seeing the benefits and progress that came from training smart.

On top of that, the prior day I’d done a short run on the treadmill (well, run mixed with a lot of walking) and it had…well, it was miserable. I hated it. So following that run with such a good run felt extra satisfying.

Today, my training plan called for several easy miles, a goal that wasn’t a stretch since I’ve been covering the same (and usually a bit more) distance once a week for a while now. But friends…today was hard. It could have been worse. I beat my distance and pace a bit. But not by much. I am coming off a full week, some not awesome sleep as I was away from home most of the week, and dealing with the physical rhythms we all face in some way and women most distinctly.

And…well…some days are like that. Even in Australia.

In my own mind, and when this line comes up in conversation in our family, it helps to keep hard days, the ones that feel like a slog, or worse, in perspective. The phrase, and really, the mentality, help challenge any tendency to catastrophize and become convinced that this bad day is the end of the story. Or to think that all days will be this hard from now on. I don’t know about you, but I know I’ve had days that tempted me to think that all the days to come would be just as hard. Heck, I’ve had seasons like that.

Years ago, my family suffered 3 huge losses in less than a year—the deaths (in this order) of my father, grandfather and brother Dan. In the midst of that my husband and I welcomed our youngest daughter Mary and I prepared to begin a new pastoral appointment. It was a year when I did definitely see and experience joy and support (from family, colleagues, church folks, and professionals) and feel God’s love and all the good things. But it was still a hard year. Many times it felt like I was walking through molasses.

As I tried to regroup following those losses, I received a card from a clergy colleague in another state whom I had never met but who had heard about my losses from one of my family members. Her brief message was just what I needed in that season. She wrote words of support and shared that she knew from her personal experience that in such a season it can feel like life will always be that way, always feel that hard. But that it wouldn’t. That God was with me in the midst of it all, and God would lead me and my family though it, and out of it.

She didn’t include the line but it wouldn’t have been out of place if she had written, “Some days…some seasons…are like that. Even in Australia. Even for God’s people.”

Psalm 23 has been a favorite for people of faith for a long time. Much has been written about the Psalms, and their example and invitation to come to God both in faith and doubt, in joy and sorrow, in celebration and anger. Psalm 23 captures much of this, especially if you read it in sequence following Psalm 22. The Psalmist is echoing, or maybe foreshadowing, these words written by Judith Viorst.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death…

Some days are like that.

…I will fear no evil.

Even in Australia.

For You are with me;

Your rod and Your staff, they comfort me.

Yes, some days are like that.

But God’s story is always still unfolding.

Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me

All the days of my life;

And I will dwell in the house of the Lord

Forever.

Some days you will have a great run that will leave you feeling energized and accomplished. Other days just getting the run completed will be an accomplishment. Some days you won't hit your target pace or distance. Still other days your body will just need rest.

Some days, some seasons, will feel hard. Sometimes hard in a passing way. Sometimes hard in a heavy, there’s-no-way-this-gets-better way.

When you cannot see the other side of such a day or season, may you lean upon the experiences and encouragement of others who have, by God’s grace and strength, walked (or yes, been carried) through such times. May you know that these times are not the end of the story. That our God is always doing a new thing.

And yes, some days are like that. Even in Australia.